


this fragile future

by gracedbybattle



Series: unimaginable light [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Baby Ezra Bridger, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, Gray Jedi, Married Couple, Parental Kanan Jarrus, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracedbybattle/pseuds/gracedbybattle
Summary: Kanan never thought he and Hera would have children. The galaxy is too big, their responsibilities too monumental in the wake of the fall of Chancellor Palpatine and the restructuring of the Jedi Order.But the Force has other plans.
Relationships: Depa Billaba & Kanan Jarrus, Depa Billaba & Kanan Jarrus & Mace Windu, Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Series: unimaginable light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699963
Comments: 18
Kudos: 164





	this fragile future

It’s not the alarm that rouses Kanan from his sleep. For a spare moment, he almost doesn’t realize why he’s awake until his ears catch up to his brain and the wailing over the monitor becomes audible. The room is dark around him and reaches out with his senses to get a feel. Hera is still asleep next to him, though she’s starting to come around, pulled by the infant cries. 

He pulls the blanket back and sets a hand against her shoulder. “Shhh, go back to sleep. I’ve got him,” he whispers with the smallest hint of a Force suggestion laced between the words. He feels her mind curl against his for a moment and then recede, drifting back to the undertow of sleep. Peaceful. He tugs on an old robe across his shoulder and palms their door open, blinking the sleep from his eyes. 

The nursery is next to his and Hera’s room and once the distance had seemed unbearable. It still seems too far for Kanan, who would prefer that Ezra sleep by their bed.

They’d kept the bassinet in their quarters for the first month after bringing their new baby home, but after that Hera’d been adamant that it was a good practice for him to have his own room. She is the ruler of the roost and the head of their house, so Kanan tends to follow her lead. It’s gotten him this far and she’s not steered him wrong yet. 

It does mean that they aren’t woken every hour on the hour, but Kanan still itches with the separation between them and their son. He doesn’t feel the need to keep him in his sight all night, certainly not the way he did that first week, but there’s still an ache when he puts Ezra down for bed and has to physically walk out of the room.

Hera says it's normal. Kanan is trying to believe her. 

He palms his way into the nursery, door opening before he can even get a hand up, his mind one step ahead and nudging the barrier aside with the Force. The sight that greets him is always enough to make his heart swell. 

Their two month old son, Ezra, is crying in his crib, face red with the effort of wailing and tiny fists waving in the air. He’s come out of his soft blue blanket with the effort of his squalls. Kanan heart tugs at the sight of him. His clothes are still a bit too big for their tiny baby who swims just slightly in his yellow sleep jumper. His eyes find Kanan and he wails anew. 

The first thing Kanan noticed about having a new baby was that he couldn’t bear to let him be in distress. Anytime Ezra so much as whimpered, he was looking for a way to rectify the situation. He has always been a problem solver and baby rearing is no different. Identify the problem, find a solution. Works every time. 

“Hey buddy,” he leans over the railing, reaching for his son and Ezra’s tiny wails ratchet up. 

He’s just now starting to really focus those big blue eyes on what he’s looking at and though Hera cautioned that most humanoid babies are born with blue eyes, Kanan thinks they’re going to stay that vivid shade. _Force intuition_ , he’d said when she’d asked why. 

She’s teased him about it since, but there’s something to be said for an intuitive feeling. It isn’t usually wrong, not for Kanan. He’s learned to trust his own instincts, even when they don’t make rational sense. Depa would say he’s finally beginning to truly trust the Force. 

He reaches down and scoops the infant into his arms, bringing up a hand to cup his head and press him to his chest, bouncing slightly. “What’s wrong little man?” He strokes a hand through Ezra’s soft, dark and downy hair, shushing him against his body. 

For the most part, Ezra is a quiet and contemplative infant. He, like most newborns, is most content with one of his parents. He likes to be rocked side to side, hates loud noises and always seems fascinated by staring out their large bay window in the living area. 

If he’s ever gets really worked up, which is rare, skin to skin contact and the sound of a heartbeat usually settles him down. Kanan has gotten him to relax a few times by simply sliding him underneath his shirt and letting him breath against his chest. Hera too. 

Since they brought him home, he’s only gotten them up in the night for one of two things: a change or a meal. A quick check confirms that it’s not the former, so Kanan tucks the baby tighter into his arms and starts for the kitchen, muttering softly all the while. 

The auto lights in the kitchen area flicker on when he enters the space, lighting the counters with a soft, blue glow. From the corner of the room, Chopper whirls questioningly from his charging pad. 

“No, nothing’s wrong Chop,” he says, nudging the door to the conservator open with his mind. Mace used to chide him about using the Force frivolously but he’s never been more grateful for it now, because with a baby you need at least three hands at all times. It’s handy. If Mace has something to say about it, he can pull a few hours in the crèche and talk to him later. 

Keeping a reserve of pre-made formula bottles on hand is genius, though he has to credit that one to Hera. After the first four nights of sleep deprivation, she’d begun prepping a few each evening for their anticipated nightly needs. It’s much easier this way, to simply warm one in the nanowave when Ezra is hungry than the whole song and dance of actually locating a bottle and Force forbid, a matching lid, in the middle of the night. 

Kanan may be a Jedi, but he’s not a miracle worker. 

It still takes a few seconds for the formula to warm, so he makes a quick circle around the living area, watching the lights of Coursant dance outside the large bay window. The skylanes are still ticking by, though not as busy as they are during the height of the day, and the measured commotion is soothing to him. Born and raised on the planet, he’s used to the city that never quite rests. 

For Hera, it has been a bit of an adjustment from the wide open spaces of Ryloth, but Hera has never been one to stay grounded for too long anywhere. She’s the Republic’s best pilot, an experienced combat mind, and one of their youngest Captains. Kanan is running a side bet with Zeb that she’ll become the youngest Commander in the Republic Navy within a year or two. 

They’d met back when she was still a cadet, Kanan fresh off his knighting ceremony and the Jedi Enlightenment Revolution following the discovery and defeat of Chancellor Palpatine as the Sith Lord Darth Sidious. Installing Bail Organa as the new Chancellor had been a fraught public affair, and Kanan had worried away at the edge of his new knight cloak that the whole thing was a ruse and another Sith was lurking amongst the corner. He’d stuck incredibly close to Master Billaba that day and didn’t care who saw. 

Hera had been part of the contingency tasked with escorting Senator Organa to the ceremony. She had been professional despite her youth, bold, confident, kind and with sharp wit. She was capable with a blaster, which she showcased with the one troublemaker they encountered, and before the day was over he couldn’t resist wanting to know more about her. 

That was the beginning. 

The Jedi Enlightenment has changed many things around the Temple after the fall of Palpatine and the loss of Anakin Skywalker, who had died to see the would-be Emperor fall. While some had chosen to walk away from the Order, many more stayed to restructure it into something new, something better. A realignment of their ways was in order, and Kanan felt proud that Depa had been one of the handful chosen to define their new code. 

_“We’ve gotten it wrong for so long,” Depa Billaba shook her head, accepting a mug of her favorite tea from her old padawan with an appreciative smile. They were sitting in the apartment where Kanan was raised, back when he and Billaba were a master and padawan pair._

_In the wake of the discovery of a Sith under their nose, Kanan had been reluctant to leave her side, knighted or not._

_“What are we going to do?” he asked, working to stamp down the fear churring a hole in his gut. Releasing emotion into the Force was a well practiced trait, but his emotions were too tumultuous today, too bright in his own mind. Maybe tomorrow, he could meditate and sort through his own thoughts._

_“It won’t be easy,” Depa sighed and Kanan thought she sounded exhausted. They all were with the weight of the past few days catching up. “But we’re going to redefine the Order, set down a new Code. Yoda and Mace think it’s the right path. I do as well.”_

The new Order changed their lives in many ways, though some older Jedi stayed true to the Code of old. Attachment discouraged, love was not. Kanan thought the new Code was a better representation of their values, a true balance. 

_Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force._

It helped that the new Order no longer forbade marriage. A win-win for all parties, it seemed. Kanan liked to think that Anakin Skywalker would have been proud. 

Kanan always thought Jedi made poor celibates. 

He knew Depa agreed with him, though Mace had always been a bit apprehensive of that particular form of attachment, especially when it had first surfaced for his grand padawan in Hera. The old master slowly had come around in the last few years, but Kanan thought that might have been more to do with Depa and Master Kenobi. The two seemed to be slowly gravitating toward one another, though Kenobi spent more time with Padme Amidala and the Skywalker twins than anyone else. 

Obi-Wan was still immeasurably kind, but tinged with a silent grief since the loss of his old padawan. When he wasn’t with Padme or the twins, he was typically spotted in the Temple gardens, meditating quietly. He frequently had Knight Tano or Master Billaba for company, though he seemed content enough on his own. 

The salvation of their Order and the Republic had come at a high price, one that it seemed Obi-Wan Kenobi had unfairly bore the brunt of. Ahsoka seemed to think he’s healing, but it would take time. 

Their new world might not be perfect, he thought, humming absentmindedly to the baby in his arms. 

But some things were.

He rocked side to side and Ezra’s cries are growing softer now, though they won’t taper off completely until he’s no longer hungry. He’s a persistent thing, which Depa says is a good sign of a determined mind. 

Kanan is already wondering how much is determination and how much is stubbornness that will manifest into a rebellious teenager in fifteen years. 

A soft chime from the nanowave tells him the bottle is ready and he tests it against his forearm first to make sure it’s ready, not too hot, not too cold. The machine is rarely wrong, but he doesn’t take any chances.

He and Hera had talked about children for a while, but between his duties at the Temple and her own hectic schedule it had never seemed like a good time to have their own. Depa and Mace were patiently peddling him about taking an apprentice on top of his normal responsibilities, but he had never made a connection with any of the younglings, not even in the crèche. 

Ezra had been unexpected. And special. 

His mother, Mira Bridger, was a political leader on Lothal making a routine visit to Metellos when a new energy facility she was touring collapsed, trapping her and over a dozen others inside. Kanan had been dispatched from the Temple immediately to help with the rescue effort. And while they’d been extremely successful in the recovery, Mira Bridger had taken a blow to the head that left her unresponsive. 

Eight months pregnant with a force-sensitive child and no other family to speak off, medical staff had delivered her baby on Coursant only hours before her body gave out completely. Kanan had been assisting with the other victims in the medcenter when he’d felt a pull at his subconscious that nearly took the breath out of him. He can still remember, keeling over in the stark white hallway of the medcenter, a bright new ball of energy in the back of his mind. 

He’d followed the line in his mind to the newborn nursery, where a squalling little boy was being assessed as completely healthy, despite his dramatic entrance into the world and being a few weeks premature.

At the time, Kanan had already put thoughts out of his mind of being a father or even a padawan’s master. 

But standing there, he knew.

He’d allowed a nurse to press the newborn into his arms, dumbfounded with the development and what it meant. 

_The feeling of the tiny body against his chest was both foreign and familiar, like something that was meant to be in a way he couldn’t describe. Ahsoka was at his side, throwing up shields to try and buffer his racing mind and answering every question the nurse rattled off about Force sensitive children and why their equipment had gone haywire the minute he was born._

_Someone, he didn’t know who, slipped a bottle of formula in his hand and he fed Ezra his first meal right there, with Ahsoka beside him._

_The Force did work in mysterious ways._

_It didn’t care what he thought, how unsure he was of his own ability to teach, to mentor. It shoved a baby in his hands with clear intent and that was that._

_Hera, bless his miraculous wife, had never hesitated. She responded to his admittedly frantic comm immediately, rushed to the medcenter in her flight suit, took one look at the new baby in her husband’s arms and the look in Kanan’s eyes and demanded the paperwork to make him theirs._

_She dove headfirst into being a mother with the same tenacity she flew a mission._

Kanan has gotten a lot of practice at bottle feeding since then. 

He shifts his hold on Ezra to the crook of his arm, mindful of his flailing little arms. “Here we go, buddy, here we go,” he brings the bottle up and Ezra latches on quickly, his cries melting into satisfied little hungry grunts. 

“That’s it,” he smiles, the sleep fog slowly lifting as he watches his son nurse. He strokes a hand down the baby’s cheek, satin soft, and feels his heart swell. He’s never imagined that he could feel like this, so protective and endlessly devoted, to the tiny baby in his arms. 

It’s only been two months, but it’s already hard to imagine a life without Ezra in it. 

He and Hera both have duties they can’t abandon entirely, but Hera’s supervisors and the Council have been surprisingly understanding. It’s not everyday a highly Force sensitive newborn is orphaned at your door. 

Master Vos and Knight Secura had graciously stepped up to fill in for his diplomatic mission to Naboo. It should be a breeze, but he still feels a twinge of guilt at needing to stay behind. Quinlan has only recently recovered from a skirmish in the Ileenium sector and should be taking it easy, but he knows there’s no one better than Aayla to watch his back. 

Hera is still running a few managerial duties off and on, but they’ve taken her off the flight rotation until she requests to return. The perks of being the best in your field is that you get to decide when you work. And Kanan’s proud to say that Hera is the best the Republic has. 

He tugs a baby blanket, one of many strewn throughout their modest apartment, off the couch to drape over the baby in his arms. Ezra is entirely focused on the task at hand, little fists flexing as his cheeks go in and out, working at the last of the milk. 

His appetite is a relief. He was born earlier than the medical professionals would’ve liked and he’s still incredibly tiny. His weight in Kanan’s arms is so small, so breakable. Hera and Kanan take turns worrying about it, but Vokara Che assures them that other than being a little undersized, he’s a perfectly healthy newborn. 

Kanan worries all the same. 

He hums absentmindedly, susses out a burp rag from the drawer and drapes it over his shoulder, patting a steady rhythm with his foot. Chopper is quiet from the corner but he can feel the droid’s attention on them, ever watchful. Hera’s loyal companion may have taken some time to warm up to Kanan before he and Hera were married, but he surprisingly took no such cautions with Ezra. 

The day they’d walked through the door with the baby, Chopper has made it his personal mission in life to protect this new, tiny charge. He’d adopted Ezra into their family even quicker than his human counterparts. He’s like their personal watch-droid, carefully screening anyone that visits their quarters and ready to whirl out a sharp _shut up_ if the baby is asleep. 

The sensation of slack at the end of the bottle brings Kanan’s attention back to the moment. Ezra has evidently had his fill, blue eyes gazing around the room and no longer focused on the formula. 

“All done buddy?” he whispers, setting the mostly empty bottle against the counter, resolving to deal with the clean up later. He swipes a bit of stray milk from his mouth and Ezra whines. “Shhh,” he mutters, holding the baby up to his shoulder, rubbing and patting his tiny back until he hears a soft _burp._

“There we go,” he smiles, discarding the rag from his shoulder and tucking Ezra back securely into his blanket. Ezra’s mewls once at him in response, his big eyes tracking Kanan’s face as his father situates him more securely in his arms. He snuffles, little baby noises, and allows himself to be swaddled, content. 

Sunlight is starting to break along the skyline of Coursant. Despite the early hour, these are the moments Kanan is learning to cherish. It’s impossible to replicate the quiet of these mornings. In the chaos of their daily lives there’s always something going on in their quarters. They never seem to be without some form of activity within this space, between Hera’s cohorts, fellow Jedi, Zeb, Chopper, someone is always milling through their space. 

The introduction of a tiny human in their life stemmed the tide of visitors because they’d insisted for the safety of a newborn, but life is no less busy now as before Ezra. They’ve only allowed a few close friends and family, Depa, Mace, Sato, Zeb to visit since bringing him home. They’re anticipating Cham within the next few days. He’d already been scheduled to appear before the Senate for a report on Ryloth’s war recovery and was anxious to meet his new grandson. 

While a visit from his father-in-law used to be a source of anxiety, Kanan is looking forward to introducing Ezra to the older twi’lek. Cham is family, Hera’s family and his, and now he’s Ezra’s family too. Hera’s father had been surprised to learn of the new addition to their family, and while Kanan is hesitant to use the term excited in the same breath to describe the legendary Cham Syndulla, he thinks it fits. 

Depa and Mace had been no different. His old master had practically melted over the baby, taking him into her arms when Kanan offered. He thought he’d even seen a tear in her eye. 

_“Hello little one,” she said, cradling the infant close to her chest. Ezra’s eyes, still unfocused most of the time, seemed fixated on the intricate braids over her shoulder. “You are a darling, aren’t you,” she muttered, bringing her face a bit closer to the baby’s own._

_“You’re gonna have your hands full Jarrus,” Mace remarked, leaning over Depa’s shoulder. Kanan’s grandmaster was a stern, forbidding man in front of so many, but not this group. The Former Grand Master of the Jedi Order had a legendary soft spot for his old padawans, and that had always extended to Kanan as well. He could already see that Ezra was already high on that list._

_“Has he been sleeping well?” Depa asked, inspecting the baby’s palms and smiling when he curled a tiny hand around her index finger._

_“Well enough,” Kanan replied, slumped against their couch in a well-worn pair of sleep pants and an old shirt. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to chase the sleep from them. The adjustment to a newborn’s schedule was definitely more difficult than he’d imagined. The Force had no answer for him here._

_His hair is free of it’s usual tie-back and he’s sure he looks like he’s been run over by a bantha herd, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. For once, even Mace hadn’t commented on his unkempt appearance._

_Depa had simply pulled him into an embrace when he answered the door and attempted to apologize for his haggard look. “We’re invading your quarters and you have a newborn,” she’s said with a rueful expression. “There’s no need to apologize among family.” Mace had just nodded in agreement, the closest Kanan’s ever seen to approval for sloppiness._

_The sight of his master and grandmaster sitting together with his son is an image he never imagined in a thousand years. Once upon a time, he never thought he could even be a Knight. He remembers being a skinny youngling, asking questions in the crèche, trailing after Depa’s robes, clumsy with a ‘saber. Every evolution in his life, from awkward padawan, to freshly knighted, to devoted husband, to a father has been unprecedented in his own mind._

_Hera joins them, handing out steaming cups of caf. The smell is enough to rouse Kanan out of his stupor. Mace accepts his graciously and she sets one for Depa on the table, settling down with her own mug next to Kanan. She pulls her feet up to tuck under her calves and leans into his side._

_“He’s been a little fussy in the evening, usually around dinner but he sleeps pretty well,” Hera elaborates, smiling at Depa and their baby over the rim of her mug. “Kanan figured out that he really likes to stare out the main window. I think the lights lull him to sleep.”_

_“Maybe he likes the stars,” Depa says, rocking the baby a bit as he makes a grasp for her hair. His uncoordinated arms have no chance at snagging a braid but the effort gets a chuckle out of her. “Not the hair little one,” she says, bouncing a little to distract him. “You have no idea how long it takes to get it just right.”_

_Kanan snorts into his mug because he knows all too well. Mace is smirking a little as well, no doubt remembering hours spent in front of the mirror learning to plait his padawan’s complicated style just right._

_“Kanan’s his favorite,” Hera says. “He can always get him down when he’s upset.”_

_Mace raises an eyebrow at that. “Might want to rethink that, young one,” he says to Ezra, as though the baby can understand him. His voice sounds stern, but there’s an undercurrent of teasing and mischief in his eyes. “I’d rethink my allegiances in this household. Your dad is not the one in charge around here.”_

_“Hey,” Kanan protests, but his heart isn’t in it. Mace and Hera get on like a house on fire, it isn’t surprising where his loyalties lie, grand padawan or not._

_Hera laughs, leaning against his shoulder. She’s a warm line of contact that Kanan melts into, just a bit. Even though he’s as tired as he can ever remember being, he wants to stay awake to enjoy this. He’s like to freeze this moment and live in it forever. In the warmth of their small apartment, his whole family within an arm's length._

_“Know your strengths and weakness, padawan mine,” Depa teased, her attention still solely fixed on Ezra in her arms and even Mace had laughed._

The sun is just beginning to surface over the horizon, spilling orange and dark red hues across the sky. The traffic in the skylanes is starting to pick up, speeders zipping to and fro in their tidy lines, as Coruscant awakes. The entire planet will be buzzing soon.

Ezra yawns against his shoulder, a breathy little sigh and smacks his lips together, eyes drooping heavy with sleep. He nestles a little deeper into the crook of his father’s shoulder and Kanan strokes a hand over his hair, still marveling at how his hand dwarfs the baby’s head.

“M’tired too,” he admits, rocking back and forth at the window to lull him. Light is just starting to creep into the room and he feels the lack of sleep pulling at him to rest. “Let’s go back to sleep for a bit, hmm?”

He can feel the tiniest fledgling touch through the Force, a small little presence wrapping itself instinctively around his own signature. It’s Ezra. They have the beginnings of a bond, one that will only grow as he gets older. It’s formation was sudden, immediate and strong enough that Depa and Mace agreed it could only have been the will of the Force itself. 

Ezra doesn’t have any control over his power yet, he can barely control the direction of his own fists at this age, but he has instincts and he gravitates towards Kanan in the Force like a brook to the river. 

He knows that he would have loved any child he and Hera had. But the feeling of their baby’s Force signature curling around him is indescribable. It’s like a puzzle fitting into his soul that he never knew was missing, situating his entire being with a sense of right. Ezra was meant to be theirs, was meant to be here with him, he knows that like he knows his own ‘saber built from scratch. 

He infuses his own signature with reassuring thoughts in response, sending them back to the infant cradled in his arms. _You’re safe. I’m here. Calm. Happy. Sleep._ _I’m here._ He feels Ezra’s awakeness slip peacefully into sleep, his little body going lax in his arms. 

A new day is beginning. He takes a moment to savor the moment, the quiet of their living room, the brilliance of the sky against the rising sun outside. The feel of the baby in his arms, so trusting and innocent, someone he would already lay down his life to protect. 

Hera will soon be up, breezing through on her way to meet Sato for breakfast and discuss the new squadron she’s letting another captain lead in her absence. Chopper will whirl through, intent on fixing their spare ‘fresher that keeps acting up. Kanan has given it up as a lost cause, but Chopper is unlikely to be deterred. 

Depa will comm by mid-morning, just to check in and update him on the mission to Naboo so he won’t be tempted to contact Quinlan himself. He has a message to return to Zeb waiting in his queue and some correspondence with Shaak Ti that he needs to chase down. Vokara Che is sending Bant Eerin down today for a check-up on Ezra and he desperately needs a shower beforehand. 

Right on cue, soft steps signal the approach of his wife. “Morning loves,” she smiles at the two of them, pressing a kiss to Ezra’s head and another to the side of Kanan’s mouth. 

“Thanks for taking him this morning, I was beat. How was he?” she asks, heading for the counter to start the caf machine. She snags the empty bottle on the way, unscrewing the cap and cleaning the residue out.

“Not bad,” he admits. “Just hungry. He just dropped off again.”

“He’s eating more,” Hera notes, continuing to scrub at the bottle with determination. “Make sure and let Bant see the chart this morning when she stops by. I’ll update it before I leave.” 

They’ve been keeping careful tabs on how much Ezra eats, weighs, sleeps, anything they can track to compare full term against premature infants. Hera likes numbers and Kanan likes to watch the progress of Ezra’s figures catching up to normal averages. It’s comforting. 

“I will,” he promises. 

“I wish I could be here,” she frowns, finishing with the cleaning and wiping her hands off. “But Sato will probably fire me if I leave him out to dry on these new cadets.”

Kanan rolls his eyes at that. “They can’t afford to fire you.” He’s always supported Hera in every way he can, she deserves no less, but he’s not wrong either. Hera is the best of the best, that’s just a fact. 

Jun Sato would rather chew his arm off than see her walk away, Kanan knows that. 

She laughs, soft and mindful of the sleeping baby in her husband’s arms. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll hop in the refresher and then we can swap?” 

“That would be great,” he says with a touch of relief. If he’s lucky, he can squeeze in a nap too before Bant gets here. Look a bit more like a respectable Knight, if only for his own sense of pride. 

Hera snatches the used burp cloth off the counter, bundling it together with a few other stray items that need to be cleaned on her way to the refresher. “Don’t start it yet,” Kanan calls after her. “I need to add a few things.”

She calls an affirmative back to him and he sinks into the couch to wait. Ezra is blessedly deep in sleep, he doesn’t so much as flinch when Kanan resituates himself, and his Force signature is nothing but peaceful. 

Kanan sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair and feeling his muscles relax. “Another day,” he says aloud to no one but himself, tired as he can ever remember being but happier than he knew it was possible to be. 

It strikes him how different it could have been, had Sykwalker not uncovered the Chancellor’s plot, had the clone trooper Fives not discovered the secret behind the inhibitor chips. If the Clone Wars had ragged on until there was nothing left to destroy.

Their entire lives could have changed in an instant. 

The thought strikes a chill and he pulls the old robe a bit more securely around his shoulders. It’s an old robe on Mace’s, one that Depa gave him when he was recovering from Mygeeto. A dark brown cloak, the fabric gone soft after years of use. He pulls the ends around himself and Ezra, cocoons them in it’s warmth, and for a moment, imagines. 

Imagines a life without Hera, without Depa, without Ezra, without Mace and Obi-Wan and Yoda and Zeb. A life without their soft apartment on Coruscant, the Jedi Temple razed to the ground, a tyrant ruling the galaxy.

He hugs his sleeping baby to his chest and thanks the Force that they ended up here, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I needed an excuse to write dad!Kanan cuddling a baby!Ezra you feel me.


End file.
